


George Cowley and Gene Hunt. Talking. About stuff. And blokes.

by Draycevixen



Category: Life on Mars (UK), The Professionals
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is says on the tin... Erm... in the title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	George Cowley and Gene Hunt. Talking. About stuff. And blokes.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ausmac](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ausmac).



> .  
> Written for this challenge from Ausmac: Cowley and Gene Hunt. Talking. About stuff. And blokes. Dare ya.

.

When CI5 had first arrived the day before, blithely commandeering Gene’s office, they’d only been known to each other as DCI Hunt and Mr. Cowley. Of course, Mr. Cowley had been called several other things as well by Gene but not within earshot of the _poncey, stick-up-his-arse, haggis chewing, sporran slapping_ Scotsman in question. As the day had progressed and Gene had been given ample opportunity to demonstrate his indispensable knowledge of Manchester, they’d become Hunt and Cowley.

At 2:00am in the morning, case successfully wound up, men dispatched to take care of the paperwork and a bottle of Single Malt on the desk between them down to its last inch of amber liquid, they were finally Gene and George.

“Good man you’ve got there, your DI Taylor.”

“Suppose.” Gene was rooting around in his filing cabinet for his second _in case of emergency_ bottle.

“Might be a future for a bright lad like that with CI5.” George watched Gene carefully, noticing the stiffening of his shoulders. “If you’ve no objection I—”

“No objections.” Gene poured the last of the open bottle into George’s glass and then broke the seal on the new bottle, filling his own. “But he’ll say no.”

“That sure of him, are you?”

George watched Gene’s slight shrug of his shoulders before he tossed back the content of his glass and reached again for the bottle. “I am.”

“That sure he’d pick you over advancement?”

“Me?” Gene glared across the table at George, willing him to take it back.

“It’s there in the way he looks at you—”

“Right.”

“—and the way you look at him.”

Gene slammed down his glass and started to his feet. “If you think—”

“I think it doesn’t have anything to do with how well you do your job man, so it’s no concern of mine.”

“He might go with you,” Gene slumped down and muttered into his whisky glass. “‘he’s been following your Bodie around like a bloody love sick puppy.”

“Bodie’s a bonnie lad, always turns a head or three, but your Tyler seems to be stuck on your lardy— on you.” It was George’s turn to look for answers in the bottom of his own glass. “Even if that weren’t true, Bodie can’t see any man but Doyle.”

“You mean the two of—”

“I don’t ask. If I knew something I might have to act on it and they’re my two best men. I wouldn’t want to lose him—” George’s words broke off as he swallowed the remaining contents of his glass and reached for the bottle again.

“ _Him?_ What’s this bloody Bodie got that—”

“Doyle.”

“What?”

“Doyle, not Bodie. We’re not all so easily charmed as your Sam is.”

“No, some of you prefer an arse that—”

“I wouldn’t finish that thought, Hunt.”

George locked eyes with Gene for a few minutes before Gene went back to staring at his glass.

“Can’t be easy for you in your position.”

“Och man, even if Ray— Doyle didn’t share Bodie’s… tunnel vision it could never happen. You can’t be… involved with someone and then risk his life in the name of Queen and country every day. The job always comes first.”

Gene’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve got fond memories of when that was true.”

George refilled both their glasses and then raised his to clink it against Gene’s. “There’s no fool like an old fool.”

“I’m not old.”

.


End file.
